This Place Is A Prison

I wanted to let the little beads of your necklace that you made sometime a while back, the one that hangs loosly around your neck and hovers on your collarbone dig pleasantly in my ear and sleep. Sleep maybe because you were holding me and I was finally warm and I was finally comfortable and finally not thinking. One small hand on that huge expanse of chest and it was nice, and I clenched my fist involuntarily sometimes, and you clenched yours, bunching the material of my shirt. Curiosity took hold and I thought I had the nerve to open the hatch by your bed so I crawled towards it and peaked in and you tackled me and laughed with me while you did it. My feet were cold and yours weren't at all, so I moved closer to you and you put your arm around my waist again and held me and put your feet against mine and told me they were cold and I knew already but it was still nice to hear you adknowledge it and fix it anyways. There was a movie and a half while I dozed and I was happy. I looked up and you were so tall and I was so small compared to you so I wrapped my arms around your torso and you put your hand on the back of my head, holding me to your chest and I breathed in and smiled.

So why do I feel like I'm betraying some deep trust hidden within the folds of everyone again? Trust that I won't move on, that I won't be better. Am I the only one that's depending on the broken shattered me? There are so many lies and though I might be capable, there is no part of me that wants to shroud all of this, to be the recipient. Maybe if I talk softly, so softly it'll resemble as if I'm about to break, and never release and emotion to anyone then I can fool everyone into thinking that I know what I'm doing.

Thing is, it still hurts. It's been almost two months, sixty-one days, and 22 hours... and driving into a gas stations breaks me down. I sit and think about it for a while and I produce tears and pull my knees to my chest and hold them there with a feral grasp and don't dare to move except to shake silently with tears. I bite my knee caps so hard and clench my jaw so tightly in attempt to redirect pain and it doesn't work. And I'm so fucking angry and miserable and trying to move. move. move. to take my mind away. But when I go to sleep or I'm finally alone, it all comes crushing back down and I don't sleep. I never sleep. I miss it, you, that, so much and with everything that I still cry nightly. I don't mean to, I'm obviously trying and it's doing absolutely nothing.

I feel like there's some expectation riding with everyone I've ever hurt, everyone that I'm letting down right. fucking. now. that when I betrayed trust that I'm supposed to keep that promise, live it down forever. And I can't do it. I want to move, I want to breathe. Please. Just this time, let me go. Let me be free. I'm doing so well, you see? I can make it, just let me, please. There are too many lies right now that are begging for me to crumble and I'm so close.